


Want

by Mithen



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-15
Updated: 2010-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-09 11:04:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/pseuds/Mithen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark is in a mischievous mood and enjoys making Bruce hot and bothered while he's trying to work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want

"Stop that," growled Batman.

"Stop what?" said Superman innocently.  He was sitting on top of the giant penny cross-legged, looking down at Batman as he worked on the computer.

"Stop looking at me."

"Mmm?"  Clark's eyebrows arched.  "Is it a problem?"

"You know damn well it's a problem," Batman said curtly.  Clark's gaze, direct and fearless, always felt like hands on his body, a touch that couldn't be kept away by anything, an irresistible force.

Bruce's body did not particularly feel like an immovable object.  In fact, at the moment a certain part of him was moving all too readily, uncurling like a lazy cat, rubbing against the encasing black kevlar as if trying to get out and play.

Clark made a sound in his throat that made Bruce's skin prickle all over and his hard-on become more insistent.  "I can hear the blood rushing through your arteries," Superman murmured.  "Through all your capillaries.  I can hear you getting aroused."

Batman gritted his teeth and kept typing.  "I'm trying to get some work done here," he said.  Superman fell silent, but Batman could hear him breathing, a low, rapid sound that seemed to fill the cave.  He tried to focus on his work, but couldn't seem to think of much beyond how the weight of Superman's gaze felt like it was stroking across his body, caressing him, probing.  Probing...

"You've been typing the same word for a full minute," Superman noted, his voice amused.  Bruce looked up to see the screen filled with nothing but the word _want _over and over again.  _Want.  Want.  Want.  Want._

"Damnit," Batman grated, "What if the boys came down here?  Or Alfred?"

"What would they see?"  Clark's voice was rich and insinuating, as heavy and warm as his gaze.  "You typing on the computer and me looking at you?  Oh, the shame.  They'd probably stand there and make small talk with me and hardly even notice how flushed you were, how you were fidgeting in your chair."  Bruce fidgeted just a little before he could help himself and bit back a moan at the pressure of armor along the length of his erection.  _Want._  "They'd have no idea you were about to come right in front of them." 

Bruce realized he was clinging to the desk with both hands now, all pretense of typing abandoned, his breath hard and short.  The idea of the rest of his household standing there watching him like this would have horrified him in reality, but when Clark described it like that...it was driving him crazy.  "Oh God," he moaned.

"Oh, you'd have to keep more quiet than that," said Superman.  "You'd have to not even move, just sit there and let it all build up in you, harder and harder, until you just couldn't hold it in anymore, until you felt yourself coming--oh yes," Superman noted, "Just like that, yes.  Shaking and trembling and panting like that.  Just.  Like.  That."

_Want.  Want.  Want._

"You bastard," Bruce growled as the haze cleared from his vision.  "I hate when you do that."

"What are you going to do?  Spank me?"

Bruce chuckled low in his throat and reached down to start undoing buckles.  "No.  I'm going to make you come over here and clean up the mess you made."

Superman smiled.


End file.
